


Cats Just Want to Have Fun

by StBridget



Series: Cat Tails [5]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Catboy Mac, Catboys & Catgirls, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Gen, catnip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 09:46:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13587486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: Mac overindulges at a bachelor's party.





	Cats Just Want to Have Fun

**Author's Note:**

> MacGyver is property of CBS and its creators.
> 
> This fic owes its origins to Shanachie's H50 fic Catnip Conundrum, part of their H50 Shifter Verse.

Jack was watching Die Hard and waiting for Mac to get home from a bachelor party for one of his catboy friends when the call came.  The number was unknown, and Jack answered with some trepidation.  In their line of work, unknown numbers could mean bad news.  Very bad news.

“Hi, may I speak to Jack Dalton?”

“Speaking.”  The voice was unfamiliar, which did nothing to soothe Jack.

“This is Joe Waters at Top Cat.  I’m calling about Angus MacGyver.”

That was the name of the bar Mac had gone to.  Jack calmed down slightly—Mac likely hadn’t been kidnapped, blown up, shot, or otherwise injured by bad guys, but there was still a lot that could go wrong.  “What happened?  Is he okay?  Is he injured?  Did he get in a fight?  Get arrested?”

“No, he’s fine,” the bartender—Joe—assured the worried man, “but he’s overindulged.  I need you to come get him.”

“I’ll be right there.”  Jack was concerned.  It wasn’t like Mac to get totally smashed; he might have a couple of beers, but he knew when he’d had enough.  That’s why Jack hadn’t insisted Mac take a cab to the party.

Jack reached the bar in record time.  He parked his car and went inside.  “Where’s Mac?” he demanded of the bartender—Joe, that was his name.

“Back room,” Joe said.  “You may have some trouble getting him home.  He’s pretty trashed.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Jack said.  “I think I can handle him.”  It wouldn’t be the first time Jack had had to deal with an inebriated Mac, though it was usually due to the younger man being drugged in some fashion.

Jack made his way to the back room.  Mac was sitting at the table batting at the string of one of the many balloons hanging from the ceiling, attention fully focused on it.  That wasn’t what Jack expected; usually, when Mac got drunk, he got chatty and tried to explain (badly) something highly technical to whoever was listening.  This was getting stranger and stranger.

Mac’s face lit up when he saw Jack.  “Jack!  How’re you doing, buddy?  It’s great to see you!”  The blond made his way over to his lover, stumbling into a table and several chairs on the way.  That was also very unlike the catboy; like most cats and catpeople, Mac was extremely graceful and had extraordinary balance.  Bumping into things was not something he did.

Mac engulfed Jack in a huge hug, draping himself over the older man like some sort of gigantic fur coat.  Jack wasn’t expecting such an effusive greeting.  Sure, Mac was affectionate, but this was over the top.  Jack awkwardly hugged Mac back, discreetly smelling his breath.  Strangely, there was only the faint smell of alcohol, certainly not as strong as Jack would expect were Mac plastered.  His pupils were dilated, though.  Was Mac stoned?  Jack had never known the catboy to smoke pot, but anything was possible, he supposed.  He didn’t smell pot, either, though.  Just what was going on?  “It’s great to see you, too, darlin’.  Let’s get you home, shall we?”

“Okay.”  Mac didn’t move, just buried his face in Jack’s neck.

This wasn’t working.  “Um, a little help here, please?”

Mac ignored him.  The blond took a deep breath, inhaling Jack’s scent.  “You smell really good.  Have I ever told you that?”

“No, I don’t think you’ve mentioned it,” Jack said.  Looked like he wasn’t going to get any help from Mac.  He’d just have to manage on his own.  Well, he was the muscle, after all.

Jack shifted so his arm was around the catboy’s waist and Mac’s arm was draped across his shoulders.  Mac immediately brought his other arm around to circle Jack’s neck.  Jack sighed.  Guess that was the best he was going to get.  He awkwardly shuffled towards the door, Mac still nuzzling his neck.  On his way out, Jack stopped to talk with the bartender.  “Just what did he get into, anyway?” he asked.

“Catnip,” Joe said, matter-of-factly.

“Catnip?”  That was not what Jack expected.  “I didn’t know it affected catpeople.”

“Sure, why wouldn’t it?” Joe said.  “It affects actual cats, after all, and their metabolism’s similar.”

Jack groaned.  “Great.  So I have a giant, stoned kitty on my hands.”

“Pretty much,” the bartender said.

This was way out of Jack’s realm of expertise.  “So, what can I expect?”

“Well,” Joe replied, “eventually, he’ll crash from the high and sleep it off.  In the meantime, he’ll be very playful.  Oh, and extremely affectionate,” Joe added, almost as an afterthought.

Mac had progressed from nuzzling to laying kitten licks on Jack’s neck.  “I hadn’t noticed,” Jack said, drily.  “Are there going to be any lasting effects?”

“He’ll have a huge hangover tomorrow,” Joe said, “but other than that, no.”

“Thanks.”  Jack slapped a generous tip on the bar and guided his amorous lover out to the car.  Getting him in proved to be difficult.  Mac did not want to let go of Jack, clinging like an octopus—Jack swore he grew four extra limbs.  Finally, Jack managed to get Mac strapped in and slid into the driver’s seat.  “Okay, Mac, let’s get you home so you can sleep it off.”

“M’kay,” Mac said, voice slurring.

Jack drove home as quickly as he could.  It proved difficult because Mac had managed to lean over and bury his face in Jack’s neck again, purring loudly.  They made it home without incident, and Jack once more removed the catboy from his neck to go around and open the passenger’s door.  Mac tumbled out as soon as Jack unfastened his seatbelt, landing on the asphalt and giggling.

Jack reached under Mac’s arms and lifted him up.  “Up you go, sweetheart.  Let’s get you inside.” 

Mac managed to stay on his feet, but he was pretty much dead weight as Jack guided him into the house.  Jack closed the door behind them and tossed his keys on the counter.  Mac lunged for them, sliding across the counter and landing in a heap on the kitchen floor, prize in hand.  He dropped them on the floor and started batting at them, tail swishing.

“oh, man, you are so stoned,” Jack said.  “This is the last time I’m letting you go to an all-catperson function unattended.”  Jack managed to snatch his keys from Mac.

Mac tried to follow them, batting futilely at them.  He overbalanced and fell on his face.  Jack couldn’t help laughing at the catboy’s antics.

Mac leapt up, startled.  He spun in a circle, trying to figure out where the sound had come from.  His gaze lit on Jack, and Mac glared at his lover accusingly.  “Are you laughing at me?”

Jack tried to compose himself.  “Sorry, darlin’.  It’s just really funny watching you.  You’re pretty cute like this.”

“I’m not cute,” Mac pouted.  He yawned.

“Sure, you’re not,” Jack said, placatingly.  Mac yawned again.  Jack figured the predicted crash was in Mac’s near future.  “Time to get you to bed.”  Rather than deal with dragging Mac to their bedroom, Jack just swooped him up in a bridal carry.  Mac didn’t protest, just rubbed his head against Jack’s neck and chest.  Jack carried his burden to the bedroom and laid him carefully on the bed. 

Mac tugged Jack down on top of him.  Jack fell in a tangle of limbs.  Mac didn’t seem to mind.  He shoved Jack’s limbs where he wanted them, then curled up against the older man, claws flexing in and out as they kneaded Jack’s chest.

Jack looked at Mac, amused.  “Comfy?”

Mac pillowed his head contentedly on Jack’s chest.  “Mm-hmm,” he said.

It wasn’t long before the catboy drifted off to sleep.  Jack laid a kiss between his ears.  “I’m never letting you get into the catnip again,” he said.

His only answer was a snore.


End file.
